


The Call

by charcoaltide



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 16:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charcoaltide/pseuds/charcoaltide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes is not used to waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Call

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written so all feedback is appriciated.
> 
> Also published on my livejournal.

Mycroft Holmes was not a man who appreciated to be kept waiting. Oh he enjoyed using it on others and was a master at stretching silences into such awkwardness people where willing to say or do anything to be allowed to leave his presence as quickly as possible. This was not one of those times.

He was sitting in his office, that much was ordinary, however there was no one there with him. No urgent minister or other on the phone requesting his help. No Anthea swooping through the door to inform him of his brothers latest escapade. This time Mycroft was sitting alone in his office waiting for a call. Had in fact been waiting for said call now for 38 hours 27 minutes and 58 seconds and no amount of his not so inconsiderable amount of money or influence could cut down the wait and it was driving him to distraction.

Under normal circumstances Mycroft could spot a problem and predict 7 different outcomes and 3 plans for twisting the events in his favour in just a few minutes. Under these circumstances he had already allowed himself to be distracted enough to get invited to 3 parties and a breakfast meeting with the new Mayor of Southwark. An idiot of a man who couldn't find his way out of a wet paper bag and would probably be ”manoeuvred” away from the post shortly.

Mycroft was not himself and if he had to wait much longer he feared the consequences might be irreparable and much more damaging than a few ill-advised parties.

After snapping at Anthea that 'No, he would certainly not feel better after yet another cup of tea!' He leaned back in his chair and put his hands over his face. How had it come to this he wondered. Nothing should rattle him like this. He who could stop world war 3 with a phone call, orchestrate kidnappings for effect and played the British government like puppets on strings. He was the iceman for goodness sake. Nothing got to him, nothing could get in and leave a mark on him. He had walls protecting the walls around his feelings and there was no way in. Yet here he sat, a nervous wreck. Waiting for the phone to ring.

When it finally did ring after Mycroft had waited 45 hours 13 minutes and 32 seconds he just stared at it. His limbs had gone numb. He couldn't move. It rang again. He finally found some mobility and moved his chair to within arms reach of the phone. One more ring. He reached out a trembling hand and cleared his throat, when had it gone so dry he wondered. On the 4th ring he picked up the phone slowly took a few calming breaths and said.

”Hello!” _Oh God, did my voice really sound like that. That was nearly a squeak, Mycroft Holmes does not squeak._

”Hi, I meant to call you a lot sooner than this but it got a bit crazy here.” The voice on the other side said, full of apology.

”That's perfectly all right. I've been quite occupied myself.” _You liar!_ the voice in his head screamed.

”Ok then, so... Good....” The voice trailed of.

”Yes.” _Why did I even say that. It makes no sense what so ever. Get a hold of yourself Mycroft you're supposed to be such an eloquent individual._ Unfortunately his pep talk only made him even more self-conscious.

He could hear the person on the other side clearing his throat before speaking.

”I was just wondering... I mean I know you're a busy man and all but... I was wondering if you might want to have dinner tonight?

”Dinner?” Mycroft could feel his stomach twisting into knots at just the thought of such a marvellous idea so of course he said nothing more as any sound he would make would be undignified in the extreme.

”Yes dinner. You know, me and you, a table, food, some nice conversation...” The voice had a teasing note to it now, confidence picking up after Mycrofts stuttered attempt at a reply.

”I think that would be acceptable.” Mycroft answered and immediately felt like banging his head against his desk. This was not going as planned. Admittedly the plan was to simply not present himself as desperate but surely there should have been more room between that and idiot.

”Great, so do you want me to pick you up or...” The voice trailed of again, clearly expecting Mycroft to take the lead at this point.

”NO” Mycroft said forcefully. Took two deep breaths and continued. ”I mean no, I'll just bring a car around and pick you up. An hour enough time for you?” _See, wasn't so hard was it. Easy does it._

”Don't you want to know where I am first?” The voice asked still infused with that wonderful teasing quality.

”I always know where you are Gregory, I will see you in one hour.” _There you go, that's more like it. Almost back to normal now._

”Looking forward to it Mycroft. I'll see you soon.” And with that the conversation was over.

Mycroft hung up the phone and moved around the desk. Putting on his coat and grabbing his umbrella on the way out of his office. When he passed Antheas desk she smiled up at him with a knowing gaze.

”Anthea, could you please have the car brought around. I'm leaving for the day.”

”Of course, sir. Hot date tonight?” She asked with a wink.

Mycroft could feel the blush rising in his cheeks so he said nothing, just gave her a look and walked out the door towards his date with the most handsome officer in England.

The End


End file.
